


ancient history

by golgothasTerror (ectoBiololgist)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (all of this is implied), Alcoholism, Alcoholism mention, Angst, Earth C, Reflection, Sadstuck, Sex Addition Mention, all hurt no comfort fuck you, also i’m a kinnie, dirk is mentioned in like one line but i don’t think that’s enough to tag him, i want him to be happy too but patience is a virtue, ill give y’all a happy ending if i keep writing dw i hate sad endings too, it was 5am and i was losing my mind, jake english does NOT get therapy (yet at least), jake is avoiding everything but whats new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:19:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25014583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectoBiololgist/pseuds/golgothasTerror
Summary: jake reflects on shit. this started as a study and ended up being a full blown thing. i’ll probably continue it and maybe write a sufficient summary too! if i continue, there will definitely be more characters, so i’ll add to the tags as needed :) enjoy! it is kind of sad though.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	ancient history

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes Jake English can’t help but think. Preposterous! But true.

Everything’s louder in silence. Everything’s silent in a big room. Every room is big in a big house, and a big house was the very thing Jake spent all his days in since the game ended. Alone. Alone unless he was of use, but that’s nothing new. And that’s okay with him. Everything is. He never did care, after all! If it makes others happy, and it isn’t hurting, what’s the point in getting in a tizzy about it? Plus it makes him useful! He always worried about being useless, so this gives him some meaning to his life, and who was he to complain? Beggars can’t be choosers after all! Any use is good use.

The house itself was grand. Gold decals everywhere, a large carpet, white marble everywhere, expensive furniture and souvenirs filling every open space, all covered in a thin film of dust. The air was still and cold. Doors creaked when opened for the first time in months. Hallways dark, the lights having been used maybe once. Twice. When there are guests. Jake’s thoughts filled the air silently. Filled his head loudly. He prided himself on being ditzy and absentminded, but that couldn’t be any further from the truth. His head was consistently filled to the brim with thoughts and feelings and fear. God, he was so scared so often. He truly was only a child who’d never been allowed to grow up. Jake English had spent so much time pretending to already be grown up that he’d never had time to actually grow up. And so he spent his time in his fantasy world. Nobody there to stop him. Nobody to keep him in check. His friends had tried, but he’d always run away. He didn’t need it. He could handle himself. He’s a grown man for Christ’s sake! He doesn’t need his chums intervening like he’s a rowdy teen.

He thinks this all while he opens another bottle of whiskey in his now empty bedroom. He’s been doing that a lot these days. Of course, he has control over this, and can stop at any time, he swears that much, but it’s nice to let go. Remember a little bit less. Just an hour ago his empty bedroom wasn’t so empty. She’d left shortly after she had awoken, but that was probably for the best. It made it easier for Jake to pretend it had never happened in the first place. He did a lot of pretending too nowadays. That had always been his specialty. Running away and pretending.

He had run away for so long that he really was alone. He glanced over at his phone on his bedside table. Alone was probably the wrong word. and was rarely alone, but he was always lonely. He tried, so hard, to fill that void of loneliness with meaningless human contact, but it all just left him feeling emptier than he started. Nonetheless, he continued his fruitless endeavors. Making himself available. Useful. Liked. It wasn’t hard, of course, but it filled his stomach with a feeling of sick disgust. This feeling coated the inside of his mouth, permeated every fiber of his being, but at the same time, he sought it out. It was a small price to pay to be liked. Because that kept his biggest fear at bay. Conflict. He’d always been a bit of a coward, huh? Going to any lengths possible to run from conflict. When he finally had to face it, he ran. He had gotten good at running. Metaphorical stamina. He could distance himself from people and situations easily. He had been getting better at connecting to people. Not running from these things. When did all that effort go down the drain? He didn’t know.

He ran his hand over the stubble growing on his face. He’d gotten a few comments recently saying it made him look more rugged. People liked it. That was good. He might just keep it. He stood up finally, looking at himself in the mirror. His hair was messy, and his torso was riddled in… He needed a shower, he noted, averting his gaze from the sight in the mirror, and making a beeline for the bathroom connected to his bedroom. He turned the door handle, opening up the bathroom and stepping inside, not needing to drop any clothes to the floor considering he was already bare as the day he’d left the womb. Well, he hadn’t actually left a womb, but ectobiology was too complicated a topic for this man! He had decided that was so. The shower curtain was pushed aside as Jake turned the faucet, watching water flow from it. He set the tinted bottle of whiskey on his bathroom counter, having forgotten he was holding it, and returned to the edge of the bathtub, turning the tap that redirected the flow from the bath faucet to the shower head. He stepped under the stream of water, relaxing slightly under the heat that came with it. The steam from the water hitting his back filled the bathroom easily, clearing Jake’s head despite the man’s wishes. He grabbed the bottle of shampoo, squeezing a bit onto his hand and lathering it into his hair, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the sting of the water against some spots on his neck. That sick disgust had become a thin film covering his whole body and no matter how much he showered, he didn’t think that would ever go away. He felt tarnished. Imperfect. Unwhole. He washed the shampoo from his hair, watching it swirl down the drain, and grabbed the conditioner, lopping some out onto his hand and running it over his hair. While leaving that in to set, he grabbed the wash cloth off the edge of the tub, dropping a bit of the honey and vanilla scented body wash onto the wash cloth, rubbing the cloth together a bit to conjure some bubbles before getting to scrubbing himself down.

Sometimes he wondered if he showered long enough he’d finally feel clean. He had never been a big fan of keeping clean until he recent years. A sad chuckle escaped his throat as he remembered the small meaningless arguments he had had with Dirk over the effectiveness of his friend’s ‘legendary showers.’ Those arguments felt like ages ago. Ancient history. As were most things these days. A sour taste bloomed in Jake’s mouth as he thought more of the past, and he pushed his head under the water to rinse the conditioner and body wash at the same time. They had never come to an agreement on that, Jake having insisted that you don’t need time to think in a shower. That the shower was for cleaning, and cleaning alone. Sometimes Jake wished he knew how to follow his own advice he gave so liberally. You’ll come to realize there are a lot of ‘sometimes’s and ‘wish’s in Jake’s life. None of them will come to fruition.

Jake turned the tap to the water, feeling the last of it run off his dark skin, down the drain. He didn’t feel any cleaner. He stepped out of the shower, grabbing one of the deeper green towels, running it over his skin to dry himself off. After drying himself off. he wrapped the towel around his waist, returning to the cold empty air of his room, and moved over to his dresser, opening it up and rifling through the clothes. After looking at the options he decided on a t-shirt and sweatpants. Surprisingly… casual. He didn’t get to wear casual often. He usually wore pajamas around the house, and unbelievably… interesting clothes outside. He wasn’t planning on going anywhere, but that’s what his heart had chosen, and so a t-shirt and sweatpants it was. Maybe it was his brain trying to get something new added to the routine. Probably. He hoped so.


End file.
